Long Stillness Poems
Long Stillness Poems. Below are the most popular long Stillness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stillness poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: August 25, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
Quote: “The words ‘I Am’ are powerful. Whatever you attach to them has the potential to become your reality.” By Wayne Dyer
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Line of inquiry:
“a heartbeat pulsating as living light
free from each and every limitation
I Am that dwelling in unbound delight
the source wherefrom arises creation”
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I am the pulse no hand of time can bind,
The lucid light that kindles from within;
Wild by beginnings, inviolate mind,
Where all genesis rise, and all begin.
I am the breath beneath zephyr of things,
The stillness from which every motion came;
No fetter holds the pinion of my wings,
No mortal epithet confines my name.
I am the aether where the stars are sown,
The fecund dark that flowers into flame;
The hidden source where every form is known,
A sacred fire no mortal hand can tame.
Before all words, will hummed in aether light,
Ouroboros, I am the deathless breath;
A fruitful cauldron kindled into sight,
I sunder every chain that leads to death.
Velleity—a wish too weak to climb,
I sustain saudade for a home unseen;
I doubt the dark, the light, the future time,
and long for what is gone, or might have been.
It waits, a delitescent, dormant seed,
I find the I AM in the kettle-song;
Then bursts to lucent noon—a sudden need,
In grass that lifts the stone and endures strong.
Let thanatopsis have its honest say:
We are caducity, we fall as leaves.
We meet the autumn on a shorter day,
So gold, so loud, yet nobody here grieves.
We sink to earth without a sigh or tear,
To sleep in peace and wait another year.
*INSPIRED BY BUDDHA
Be Still as the Sun Sets
Listen, as the Wind Drifts
Let Go, for time it Slips
Into the Seas of Nothingness, Into the Seas of Bliss
Seek High for Higher Things
Be Wild, Run Wild where the Wild Pendulum Swings
take Solace into the Light that Dwells Within
for the Sacred it knows, it flows beyond the Wyles of Men
Fear Not, for the Path is Wrought in Pestilence
Permit Thy Light, to Shine Wise, Thrice Bright in Excellence
Into the Shores of Duality where Great Webs are Spun
I find Solace, I find the Great Web Weaver on the door front
Heave High, those Aspired Heights Seed Kingships
In Steeds, In Creeds, Blessed Thee, In He, Who Is Spiritually
a river of gold
in the gloaming skies of blue ~
sunset magic charm
in the twilight zone
nightingale melodies please ~
moon comes out to hear
stardust sprinkled coat
worn by dusky night maiden ~
jealous luna stares
in gloomy stillness
even shadows go to sleep ~
lonely wolf cries out
beauty of night sky ~
enraptured soul sigh!
29th April 2023
This is a HAIKU SONNET (invented originally by David Marshall).The basic premise of the haiku sonnet is simple: 4 3-liner haiku plus a couplet of either 5 or 7 syllables adds up to 14 lines, the same number of lines found in a sonnet.
Contest: Upto 20 lines
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Dead of Fall
In gathering storm clouds, Fall whispers its dread,
Cold tendrils coil, as life's colors shed.
Once vibrant hues, now wilt and fade,
As darkness creeps in, a cold, silent grave.
The trees shudder from a galloping wail,
As the shadows of death ride upon the gale.
Leaves descending, mourner’s tears in the night,
Darkening skies, blocking out the celestial light
Each gust a lament, from the realm of the dead,
A chilling embrace, where all life is bled.
Once verdant forests, now barren and sere,
As Fall's fatal touch, draws ever so near.
A piercing ravens caw, echoes a haunting dirge,
As Fall’s icy fingers begin to surge.
Nature's canvas, once painted with vivid grace,
Now marred by blight, in this dark, desolate place.
In the stillness of dusk, befalls a silent pall,
Softly, death claims its toll, in the dead of fall.
Where once was life, now only rot and decay,
As Fall descends, in its cold, cruel way.
But even in the bleakest of hours, a promise we find,
A seed of hope, a whisper, a sign.
Like a phoenix from the ashes, rising up, a seedling tall,
A symbol of Spring's renewal, in the dead of Fall.
-Edward
Remember the child
The one who smiled, who tried
Who curled up on a lap
Who found reassurance in a hug
Who embraced the spirit
With kindness and love
Remember the joy
Found in nature’s touch
The glow of the moon, the stars
Reflecting the peace of a heart
Gentling the colors of the dark
Inspiring the sweetest hope
Remember the past
The history of sweet grace
The tenderness in abiding faith
The music in a prayer
The silence that falls in echoes
Pleading for serenity’s whispers
Remember the friend
The one who you so treasured
Who grew to be your blessing
Who reassured your fears
Who encouraged you to believe
Who stirred your deepest dreams
Remember the laughter
The joy that could bring you to tears
The giggles that moved you to listen
To the stillness, the dance, the miracles
The moments that tremble with kindness
The warmth that encourages divine love
Remember the moments
When you were filled with passion
When everything in you adored
The Creator, the One who made us
When your heart beat with the purpose
Of giving mercy, hope and compassion
Remember the days
That brought you honor
The ones that won’t fade
Because they know you
As the light, the reflection
Inspiration that mirrors…
His greatest gift, real love!
Ida
Pingala
Sushumna
Or nebula
Cold breath
Hot breath
No breath
Know breath
Three known channels for the flow
One burns, one cools, one is mellow
All provide a connected glow
In pristine stillness imperceptibly slow
Abandoning focus on technique
Let us take a sneak peek
At harnessing the enableability
While preserving our sanity
Pausing doctrines of theology
And electrochemistry of biology
Let us go into the actual experience
In innocence, with divine assistance
The crux is our awakening
Not in the method stating
Going into the theory
Makes the soul weary
First, let us address the fears
Of the hot breath which sears
Burns
Innards upturns
Energy is simply energy
It is we who need to form a synergy
By deep inner cleansing of negativity
Only then may we reclaim our be-ability
Distilled water does not conduct electricity
It is the contaminant that causes fatality
It matters not which channel is the funnel
Hot, cold or central
When we wish to walk, we walk
When we wish to talk, we talk
The focus is not in the instrument
But upon intuitive use of our enablement
As long as we seek for self attainment
There is an ego manifest making a statement
Only when there remains no selector
Is our empty cup within a fit receptor
In case the point is missed
The message is simply this
Do not try to be a Houdini
Forget about the Kundalini
As consciousness is shaken
We automatically awaken
Discarding fragmented imagination
We may embrace limitless elevation
Kundalini, chakras, nodes
Parts, components of our body abode
Look not at the finger but at the beauteous moon
In the rhythm of oneness, we automatically swoon
In stillness
04-November-2020
No more of this or that, I am the all,
the source wherefrom arises appearance,
beyond space and time, where there is no wall,
no fear, desire or thought interference.
Among dream forms at times I do mingle,
each ego living a life of its own,
bemused by illusions, eye not single,
though their childlike heart wishes to atone.
Each divine spark is a part of the whole,
struggling and striving and searching in vain,
for that sublime light which scriptures extol,
that they may escape earth life filled with pain.
The paradox is, God and we are one ~
Nothing need be done, save coming undone
Nothing need be done, save coming undone,
that ceasing to react to fickle fate,
outpouring love and light, as does the sun,
poised in stillness we stand at heaven’s gate.
I witness all this from my vantage point,
aware of each and every vibration
but all being one, who should I anoint,
as souls drift rudderless in creation?
Be this as it may, God gives me a nudge,
reminding me that He is the doer,
gentling heart, which earlier would not budge
to serve fellow souls as a raconteur.
Dwelling in darkness and fearing the light ~
We dream on until we garner clear sight
We dream on until we garner clear sight,
which reworded means that the mists must clear,
that as the flame that banishes the night,
all demons of darkness then disappear.
God’s grace is love and love employs no force,
so waits patiently for us to awake,
yet we can, if we choose, change our life’s course,
becoming calm and tranquil like a lake.
Having penned this verse as impulsed by God,
there’s nothing more for me to do or say,
save tread mindfully, that whence heart has thawed,
the truth is beheld when we cease to sway.
I am a pillar of light, standing tall ~
No more of this or that, I am the all
What’s born will die, we know this
but heart says something’s amiss,
in as there is more to us,
than fears of mind that nonplus.
When we dream, senses recede,
yet thoughts refuse to concede
right of way to mists that sway
heart that seeks love, night and day.
Beyond dreams, the deep sleep state,
is the realm where thoughts abate,
wherefrom each morn, soul’s reborn,
refreshed since our ego’s shorn.
Moments before our thoughts stir,
we feel God’s magnetism purr
and if we stop flow of time,
we’re graced by rapture sublime.
Our awareness, self-aware,
in staid stillness, naked, bare,
reveals itself as God’s light,
within our heart, shining bright.
Beyond reach of lower mind,
lies the truth we seek to find,
being what we always are,
here now within, not afar.
We are but transient breezes, subtle specters,
On this ancient soil, so dense, so tangible,
Yet fleeting seagulls of smoke in nature's hands,
A curtain's sway when the final act concludes,
Departing from mortality's sharp incision, we leave without armors,
Simply empty shells, extinguished echoes on the shores of oblivion,
Bearing the secretive seal of a destiny towards the void.
How much trust we place in the nipple of mother matter,
Which, as if bewitched, can stealthily blow into a dance of rage,
Subtle or gentle, sweeping in its path without asking,
To then rest, as an eternal statue of enchanting rock,
Entangled in scents of the past and stardust.
Water, anima mundi, takes shapes that conceive our dreams,
Of vapors, rivers, and scales,
Murmur of steam, song and ice's silence,
Its clear transformations mocking the angels of reason,
The restlessness of this voracious cosmos,
Weaves the unseen dance of passionate atoms,
Dropping the illusion of a room where nothing stirs,
Though drifting into vast abysses of boundless space.
The mysterious elixir weaving its web from occult matter
And silhouettes that seem cut from the stillness of eternity,
Elude the clumsy decision of the tried consciousness,
While seekers of signs drink desperate silences,
Visionaries between the heavens, in a carousel of intention,
In the eyes of the crowd, a vain and endless quest for meanings and essences.
As much as the pantomime of worlds transforms,
The same remains the story - a circle that closes.
The cold has fled this place, and wrapped in light
The world is once again so warm and bright.
The sky is blue and shattered are the walls
That kept the sun outside those wintry halls.
The winter’s fled, and with her’s fled the ice,
Replaced with summer’s sun, so warm and nice.
Is this what people call a lovely day?
Is it their hope that summer’s here to stay?
The winter’s ended, and a mighty roar
Has sounded through the fields and over moor,
Yes, through the valleys and the wood as well.
The summer has arrived upon the dell.
The frost is over, gone now is the snow,
Once frozen rivers mightily now flow,
And beavers work to gnaw their way through logs
To turn these riverbeds then into bogs.
The dams they build, so perfect in their place,
Should still the flowing water in its race.
They calm what winter, in her death, made wild,
That rushing stream now gentle, soft, and mild.
Though once were white, the woods now glow with green,
The lakes are filled with swans that swim and preen;
Too soon the winter shall return, in time,
But now the woods are filled with grace and rhyme.
The birds return back home, and build their nests
While hibernating bears wake from their rests.
The stillness that the winter brought, so rife,
Is gone, as with the spring, all’s back to life